One Month Later
by PineapplesArePsychic
Summary: Juliet has to cope with life after a disaster. Rating for character death.


**Hi, this is something I wrote for my English coursework. I wrote it with Psych in mind but obviously didn't use their names so if I've missed any when I was swapping them sorry! I just wanted to see what you guys thought of it! It's a little out there but I hope you like it!**

**Pineapple**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Psych or any of it's characters.**

**One Month Later**

Detective Juliet O'Hara was paranoid. She knew it and so did the whole police force. However, since they hadn't known her for very long, these people didn't really care about that much and had just assumed that Detective O'Hara was naturally this way. She had been transferred from her old unit in Santa Barbara back to her home town of Miami. Anyone normal would have been happy about this move back to their family, but Juliet had originally managed to transfer herself away from them back when she was a junior detective.

She had loved her life in Santa Barbara before the incident: she had a work partner who cared about her, even if he didn't like to show it; friends who she loved to have a laugh with, even if it had taken her a while to make them after she had moved down there; and a boyfriend who loved her. Despite all that, her superiors had thought that she would work better in her childhood home, that she might not cause such an incident again. Although, they had been the first to jump up and tell her that what happened wasn't her mistake, that anyone else would have done the same, she couldn't stop feeling guilty. After all, it had to be someone's mistake, so why couldn't it have been hers. Furthermore, as if that wasn't enough, she also couldn't stop the feeling that someone was watching her, waiting to punish her for what she was responsible for. The thing that she hated the most though, the one thing that made her sick to her stomach, was that she genuinely thought that she deserved whatever this mysterious person could give her, and that included death. The only reason she didn't like this wasn't because she thought she shouldn't be thinking like that, it was because she thought she was being ungrateful for what he had given her: life.

Juliet's routine life was repetitive and tedious. She liked it that way, or at least she seemed to. Anyone who knew her properly, who knew her before, would know that her life was never boring. She was always doing something new and exciting. Now she worked, went home, slept, woke up and started all over again. Nothing was any different on this particular day. It was a normal Tuesday; the 11th May to be exact. There wasn't anything special happening, neither in her life nor at work. The day started like any other: Juliet got up and got ready, all the while keeping her gun in her sight and within reach. While she thought she deserved whatever she was given, she didn't think she should let go of her life just like that. She knew that, when it came down to it, she would put up a pretty good fight. That was the other thing, she always thought in terms of when, not if. She knew it would happen someday, whatever 'it' was.

When she got to work on that fateful Tuesday, Jennie noticed something was off. She didn't have to be psychic to work that one out. Everyone at the office was acting weirder than usual; towards her anyway. As soon as she walked into the room everyone shut up immediately, giving the impression that they had just been talking about her. She had nothing to do, since the criminals of Miami were oddly quiet today too, and it made her notice it even more. She had no idea what could be any different. She had checked her appearance at least 10 times and she still looked like her normal professional self. She didn't understand it. That was until the chief called her into his office.

"O'Hara, I understand that today will be hard for you but I want you to know that…"

"No one blames me. Yeah, I know. No one but myself. Thanks for reminding me. Can I go now?"

"Sure O'Hara, just don't overwork yourself; work is not the way to deal with things."

"Of course chief. There's hardly any work to do today anyway."

Furious, she left the office. Everything had clicked into place in her head. Of course they were all acting strangely. They thought she was some sort of nut job who was about to have a mental breakdown or something just because it had been a whole month since the incident. She hadn't forgotten, in fact she was highly aware of what the day was. She just hadn't been aware that this meant everyone would treat her differently. With this new thought, Juliet made a resolution to ignore everyone unless they spoke to her directly.

The day seemed to drag after that. Juliet finished up some paperwork and then pretended to be working until the end of the day to make sure that no one would bother her. No one would have done anyway, but some of them might have felt obliged to go and talk to her about it if she had been free.

When the clock finally reached 5 o'clock Juliet grabbed her stuff and walked swiftly out of the doors, not looking back. If she had done so she would have seen not only the whole police force staring out in shock after her, but also a tall man, about 6"4 who had been sat on a bench just outside the station, stand up briskly and begin walking in the same direction she did.

The small cottage in which she lived was not far from the station, so Jennie liked to walk to and from work every day. The cottage was on one story and even had a thatched roof. If it weren't for the fact that she hated living in Miami, Juliet would have loved to live here. It was her ideal house; comfortable and cosy. After hanging her coat up and making sure she had her gun, Juliet walked through to the kitchen and put the kettle on. She didn't really feel like a huge meal today so she would pop something in the microwave in a bit. Just as she sat down with her cup of tea in her hand she heard a knock at the door. She had no idea who it could be as she hadn't had any visitors since she moved in a little under a month ago.

As she opened the door her hand instinctively went for her gun only to find it wasn't there. She looked up and saw the tall man, who now stood on her doorstep wearing black clothes and a black ski mask, twirling her gun in his fingers.

"Hi there miss, I was just admiring your little cottage here. May I come in and look around?" Sarcastically and with a playful tone in his voice, the man stated his intentions clearly and started to walk inside. As much as she tried, Juliet couldn't shut the door on him. He was just too strong. He stopped twirling the gun and turned to face her, his long arm outstretched with the gun extending it further.

"Now, now little missy, that's no way to treat a guest is it. I thought detectives were supposed to have more manners than that." Seeing that she wasn't going to reply, the man took off his mask slowly, for effect. He got what he wanted as Juliet let out a small gasp. She recognised him now. He was the son of the man who they had been chasing before the incident. They had got him in the end, but not without casualties.

"So you know who I am, good. Now, let's get down to business. You should probably know how this works since you deal with the aftermath all the time but I'll explain anyway. You're going to walk over to that armchair and sit down. We're going to make this look like a suicide you see. Now, when you're sat down you're going to hold the gun and I'm going to pull the trigger, people used to get so worked up when I made the pull the trigger themselves." All this was said with an impassive look on his face and a bored tone in his voice. The little speech was accompanied by elaborate hand gestures towards her favourite armchair and a small demonstration of how to hold a gun. Juliet could barely breathe, never mind bring herself to speak. The man guided her over to the chair, all the while with her gun at her back in case she decided to run or do something equally stupid.

As she sat down Juliet thought about her family and how they would feel if they thought she had committed suicide. Her colleagues would be very 'understanding', saying things about how she blamed herself for what happened. However, she knew that her father, for one, wouldn't ever accept that. He still believed that she was his little girl, the same one as she was at 5 years old. Maybe then they'd catch this man. As the gun was put to in her hand and pointed towards her head, Juliet's thoughts turned to her old friends in Santa Barbara. How they would react, she had no way of knowing. She didn't think many of them would believe it but things can change in a month. As the gunshot rang out she thought of Shawn, what would he think of her? He would know that she would never give up her life on purpose. She hoped he had forgiven her. In a way, she hoped that he, like all the others, had never even blamed her, but she knew that she deserved blame. Maybe now she deserved forgiveness as well. She hoped he would be waiting for her, wherever you go after this life.

With her last breath she decided to finally say something to her killer. The tall man had been expecting this but he wasn't expecting what came out of her mouth next.

"Thank you."

**Obviously I would appreciate a review! Thanks for reading!**


End file.
